


PROMPTOBER — KACCHAKO

by bksal



Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 17:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20934059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bksal/pseuds/bksal
Summary: Okay, so, it’s 1:35 AM, and I’m sitting here, like, “I should (try to) do a prompt for every day of October, but with my favorite ship.” Seeing as though I’m quite literally Bakugo Katsuki in some aspects, I thought his would be a cute idea to fling out there — plus Uraraka owns my heart. So, enjoy. <3 I’m, like, six days late, but who cares.





	1. Chapter 1

PROMPT SEVEN — SUBTLE.

It had been an excruciatingly long day, and Bakugo was ready to head home and turn in for the night — or even better, the rest of his life. He had absolutely no reason to be out this late, other than fooling about with his friends (that he’s completely in denial about), Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina.

Conveniently enough, though, there was a bubbly group of friends with the same plans as his group’s, which Bakugo himself had no major complaints about, aside from them being all smiley and talkative and annoying —  
He had to admit it (though never out loud), he was being a stick in the mud, and he would definitely be a stick in the mud every time he and his team would go out.  
In this instance, he was just plain frustrated.

It was true, you know. The rumors. The ones about him being some sort of secret feeling feeler. Ashido herself had told Bakugo previously — “You know, if you ever developed a crush on someone, you’d defo be the one with the ‘I like you and I don’t know how to react, so I’ll try not to be a dick, and if I am, I’m not going to apologize but just now that I am deeply sorry’ kind of energy. You know?”  
“No.” Was Bakugo’s response. But he was definitely lying. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to tell, because he isn’t some stupid, sheepish high school girl that turns her gaze to the right, pouts, and blushes when she lies. All he had to do was look you dead in the eye, lie, and you’d believe him, no questions asked; he was just that intimidating, and that hard to read. For some, at least.

Today was long. The bomber repeated this phrase over and over in his head, noting that that would keep that stoic look he needed to pass through the bustling groups of friends without any disruption.  
Everyone knew Bakugo had an unforgettable resting bitch face, but when he was purposefully trying to look mean, all of his third year class knew that he was not to be bothered until he unthreaded his eyebrows and straightened his lips back out.

The blond, with hands dug deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts, maneuvered quickly through the different crowds of bustling teenagers, avoiding eye contact with any and everyone who dared say hello.

A voice, a new voice, you could say, faded into his mind as he passed a group of intellectual kids, the quiet kind, with the green-haired bastard as their leader, and he almost impulsively let it fade out until he almost stopped in his tracks.He came to a rolling stop before throwing a hand in the direction of the voice that had the guts to speak to him when he was having his “Bitch-faced Bakugo” moment.  
Still on his (not so) merry way, he grimaced to himself to stop the obvious grin that was inevitably prying itself onto his features. It was Uraraka that had spoken to him. Not even Midoriya had spoken to him first, and he usually is — then the rest of the group would follow suit, their hellos chiming after his like a call-and-response.

Bakugo thought about Uraraka more than he would like to say out loud, and dealing with those sorts of thoughts isn’t exactly something that an aspiring hero would like to do. Even still, it was kind of .. exciting to hear her say hello when everyone had been so afraid to talk to him.

Part of that was his fault, but despite him purposefully plastering a mean, dead look on his face, she spoke, and didn’t treat him like a bomb whose timer is on its last three seconds.  
Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, and he was almost revolted.  
“Quit eating my fucking intestines,” Bakugo protested to the feeling once behind the door of his own room. Unlike most, he confronted his feelings head on and verbally, unless they were romantic. Then.. no.

But, this was the only time he had actually felt something special when talking to someone for even a brief moment. When she’d say things like “Good work today!” or “Your shoe is untied.” he would feel those little things, eating at his guts.

The feeling was subtle, and for now, he could totally suppress it, but by God, it was there.


	2. PROMPT EIGHT — SUPPORT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uraraka is feeling low, so Bakugo gives her a pep talk — in his own little way.

Uraraka could almost cry. Another supervised spar lost to Yaoyorozu Momo, who had not that impressive of a quirk. All she could do was make stuff, it's not like it could become a part of her body or something - like she could just _become_ the weapon. It wasn't that impressive.  
Or.. maybe that was just her jealousy talking.  
It was.  
Momo was such a talented, beautiful, intelligent and strategic young woman who only tried her best. It's not like she's plotting Uraraka's downfall or anything. She's just trying to make it to the top, like everyone else. No hard feelings.

"Sorry," Uraraka sighed to herself, just to free her conscience of the weight of thinking such rude thoughts about Yaoyorozu, thus releasing this weight and filling the air with her grief. No one was really around in the lonely, idle coffee shop, so her sighed "sorry" sounded like she was trying to get everyone in the vicinity's attention. In the cushioned chair, she lifted her knees to her chest and lowered her head in between them, eyebrows furrowing like they had a mind of their own.  
She didn't have a single clue why she was beating herself up over this so severely. She had lost to Bakugo on national television, lost to him in front of all of Japan, and yet she still feels worse now than she felt then.  
"I should've been stronger," she concluded. So that's why she was so upset. The sports festival was a year and a half ago now. She thought that she would have improved since then at least a little, if not an immense amount.

Without lifting her head, she reached over to the small table next to her chair so she could grab her tea (which should be cold by now, she spent a lot of time sulking), but instead, she felt the heat of another body. A quiet "Mm?" impulsively came from her closed lips, and she swiftly moved to apologize to the person she almost kind of punched in the crotch. "I'm sorr—!" She exclaimed, then stopped mid-sentence when she realized it was only her classmate since first year, Bakugo Katsuki. Subtly, she exhaled with relief. "What're you doing here, Bakugo?" She asked, genuinely happy that it was him and not some random stranger just standing over her.

With a cocked eyebrow, Bakugo narrowed his eyes at his brunette companion, as if the answer was obvious. "You're not the only person in the world who frequents coffee shops, Roundie."  
Uraraka had no time to scold him about the nicknames he's given her for so long.She opened her mouth to say something just as snarky as his remark, but before she could, Bakugo came with a question, “What’s with the stereotypical depressive movie scene routine over here? Don’t tell me it’s because you lost in a fucking spar. It’s a spar, Uraraka.”  
“That’s not the point!” Uraraka retorted, unknowingly balling her soft hands into fists, completely looking over the fact that he actually called her by her name this time. “The point is, Bakugo, I lost because I was weak. I thought I got stronger, and I didn’t. So now what?”

“Why’re you yelling at me?” He asked, stepping away and getting ready to turn around and return to where he came from. “No big deal. I was just trying to see what the hell you were so worked up about.”

“Don’t go.” The brunette sighed, tiredly rubbing her forehead. “I didn’t mean to shout. I’m just stressed out.”

“About _what,_ though?” Bakugo asked, back still turned. “You did a good ass job out there. You’re being ridiculous, and it’s only you. Everyone else thinks you’re a boss at what you do, except you. How about you acknowledge the fact that you actually made it this far and stop focusing on whether you won or lost? It’s not about that.”

“Funny hearing that from you...” Uraraka laughed, face turned to her lap.

“What was that?” Bakugo spun around.

“Nothing.”

“The point is, cheeks,” the nicknames were back. “Quit giving yourself shit about stuff that isn’t a big deal. The big deal is that you’re one of the best of the fucking best. So calm the fuck down, or else.”

She didn’t know why, but despite the aggression in his tone, she smiled. She knew his intentions weren’t to hurt her feelings, but to crush the negative ones.  
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and he was giving this almost unnoticeable leer.

“Alright, _Uraraka?”_

“Alright!”

**Author's Note:**

> So this one really sucks, but it’s because I just wanted to test the waters. I don’t even know if promptober is a thing, but if it isn’t, I totally just came up with it on the spot. Hope you enjoyed it. I’ll write another tomorrow, hopefully!


End file.
